


Joker In The Deck

by Blayk_ist_nichts_und_dumm



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV), Joker (2019), Original Work
Genre: 2010s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arkham Asylum, Arson, Bipolar Disorder, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Body Image, Dark Comedy, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drugs, Experiements, Explicit Language, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gay Character, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Gotham Inspired, Graphic Description, Humor, I rarely beta this btw, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Lobotomy, Multi, Muteness, Mutilation, Near Death Experiences, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Robbery, Schizophrenia, Selectively Mute Character, Self-Harm, Sensitive Hearing, Stitches, Straight jackets, Tags May Change, Threats of Violence, Violence, pathological laughing, transgender character, wholesome moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blayk_ist_nichts_und_dumm/pseuds/Blayk_ist_nichts_und_dumm
Summary: [Title Change:(old) Laughter -> (new) Joker In The Deck]Getting used, tortured, and framed was the last thing he wanted. Once bright-eyed now convicted John Doe finds himself in a predicament that may just take more sanity than he has left to spare.------OLD DESC:He didn't even remember doing the crimes he got trialed for, but now he was deemed insane and unfit to live in society. The young man swears to take revenge as soon as he was deemed sane enough to leave, and thanks to two good friends, his leave will be sooner rather than later.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	1. Admitted

**Author's Note:**

> John Doe, as he is called, gets admitted into an asylum meant for mentally ill criminals, although he swears he didn’t do anything. His first official day ends up sucking with a not so bad outcome.

“You sure this guy did all that?”

“That's what the report says. We’ll see what the evidence says about it…”

. . . Is what was said before the evidence came in with the speed of lightning. John couldn’t even fight back with it, but he thought he was actually lucky to be deemed something he knew he wasn’t.

_Insane._

While John felt fine, even telling others so, he wouldn’t fight back against something that would save him from a death execution, or death row of prison, both were bad in his eyes. He refused to give his name, earning him the John Doe title, which was funny considering how it would always remind him of those stupid Batman shows- but he guessed some of its reality now. Well, he was getting sent to a private government asylum meant for people like him.

Except he didn’t belong there.

John fought police officers and nurses as he was strapped to a stretcher to be brought into the asylum, being transferred directly from the court in an EMS vehicle to the asylum in southern Illinois. Nurses had to sedate him since his thrashing was actually causing the straps to wear and tear down, that can happen with polyester coats, of course he was going to lose that old bloody clothing once admitted to the asylum.

Being drugged up made it easier to roll John straight into the asylum, and doctors immediately got to checking up on him. His face was scarred from what seems to be scalpel incisions, and 2nd degree burns marked the entire right side of his body, making him seem red but extremely pale all at once. After removing his clothing, which had the same area burned and singed as well as his skin, they quickly got him into a hospital gown that he would wear for the next week as the doctors assured that his face, burns, and other various wounds would be healed up just enough to be let into the asylum itself.

Once just a few days rolled by, John was hyper. He wanted to move, scream, something to wear himself out of boredom. He stared at the ceiling in boredom, and just wondered why not even a nurse would entertain him… since he was such the ‘ _high risk criminal_ ’ after all, wouldn’t make sense to just bar him up in a hospital bed with no sort of entertainment.

The young adult kept his thoughts at bay, even using meditation breathing exercises to keep himself calm and collected. He couldn’t let some silly ideations ruin his day, after all, he was already about to climb the wall in anticipation to get out of the room.

This continued for a couple more days, and he definitely lost a good 10 pounds from the shitty food they had him eat. It was worth it though, as not eating a lot helped him not get nauseous every time pain struck his mouth and cheeks, or his right side flamed. The head doctor deemed him healed up enough to be in the left wing, which was a place for higher risk patients, but he would need a watch almost every day of the week to be safe.

John was just finally happy to be out of bandages, but stitches on his face would have to stay just one more week before being taken out, which bugged him to no end. A nurse, whose name John learned was Lucy, had taken him out of the stupid hospital gown and put him in striped pants and a tank top. John of course wanted to ask her why only the tank top, but just didn't bother with it as she pulled a straight jacket from her little cart. John of course fussed, but he figured if it meant him not picking at his already pained and inflamed stitches, then oh well he’ll deal. He did signal complaint about it being itchy though as he was wheeled off to the left wing by Lucy.

At least she was gentle with her words, even when she put the straight jacket on him, he couldn’t help but feel calm in her presence and by touch. A switch in his brain quickly flipped, this was a nice nurse, a sweet person, a good soul that he knew he didn’t want to disappoint.

John hated himself for feeling love so easily, but once he got to the room all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn’t find the joy of hanging out with other patients, or even doing any activities, plus he couldn’t use his arms now, so, he was stuck with only wearing socks and using his teeth to latch on to things, preferably not heavy.

Lucy let him sleep, thankfully. She had seen surgeries worse than a few stitches and burns, and it can knock out patients for days, even weeks, so this situation was no different.

* * *

“Doctor, may I get the details about Doe’s situation?” Lucy asked the doctor later that night while John was asleep.

The office was cold, and Lucy wished it wasn’t. Doctor Welhind always had his bland, peach colored office at winter degrees, and the young woman never knew why.

“Well Kolf, I don’t think you have the clearance-”

“Please doc?” Lucy’s accent slipped through with her words. To some, details didn’t matter in the asylum, most nurses didn’t care to know any of the patients they worked with. Lucy had a problem with that though. She always cared more than needed about her patients, and this time the strange stitched-faced man she was placed to care, completely took her interest.

Welhind sighed and ruffled through the new documents, picking out John’s file and handing it over to the nurse. “I expect this back by tomorrow, do not let it get into anyone else's hands.” The doctor gave her a look of discomfort, he didn’t do this a lot. Lucy jumped up after taking the files and hugged the doctor.

“Thanks doc! I will have ‘em back in time!” With that she ran out of the office. Welhind sighed, he supposed this wasn’t a bad thing, she probably wanted to know how to better care of John- at least from the information that is known and isn’t.

* * *

Lucy skipped to her small rinky-dink office next to the medical wing. She hummed as she got to her desk and flipped to the first document page of the file.

_Name: N/A_

_Alias: John Doe_

_DOB: 9/24/1989 - EST_

_Admitted: 6/16/2010 15:00_

_Height: 5’4_

_Weight: 151_

_Sex: M_

_Eyes: Hazel_

_Hair: Brown/Green_

Lucy didn’t care much for this basic information, but she also didn’t know that John was only 21 years old. He looked way younger… that could be because of his short size but she wouldn’t judge him on that. She herself was only 5’5 at 27. Lucy glazed passed most of the other boring information till she got to the wounds section.

_Injuries: Bleach/chemical burns on the right side of the body. Scalpel carved lines from corners of mouth, across cheek, close to the ear, same on other side. No information of how injuries occurred, possibly self harm._

This made Lucy pause. John was a criminal, yes, but who in their right mind would do this to someone? If there is no information, and John refuses to speak of it being self-inflicted, then someone else gave him these and that just didn’t sit well in the nurse’s stomach, and made her feel nauseous.

Lucy kept glancing and finally found his crimes, his sentence. What the hell was this guy trying to do?

_C: Robbery, arson, explosives, illegal drugs, homicide, genocide, illegal border hopping, identity theft._

_Sentence: 30 years (Reduce to 15 if rehabilitated)_

Robbery sounded pretty small in contrast to the other shit this guy had on him. It made the woman think about anything else he could have possibly done. It was however the word ‘ _genocide_ ’ that caught her attention… How many people has he killed? And why? Those thoughts were probably going to live rent free in her brain for the rest of her life now.

She figured it would be best to go ahead and drop off the file first thing in the morning… That list was the last thing on the documents, which was both relieving and disappointing. Lucy honestly thought there would be more to John Doe, maybe she would just have to butter him up in order to get more of the story.

Lucy yawned as she headed to the couch in her office and plopped down, falling asleep immediately, her dreams being filled with rainbows and rivers.

* * *

John was woken up by nurse Lucy shaking him gently. His hair looked like he got electrocuted, and he had been drooling on his pillow, which was not fun to wake up on. He groaned as Lucy helped him sit up. Looking her in the eyes, John didn’t say anything, but her smile did brighten his painful morning a bit.

“Want to hang out with me in the community hall, John?” Her voice was soft, but god was her Chicago accent thick. John rolled his eyes in response, but figured he might as well so he shrugged and nodded. He could see the nurse frown from the lack of verbal response, but quickly get replaced by a smile as she helped him up and into a wheelchair. He wanted to say he didn’t need it, but his balance felt wonky with an empty stomach and a straight jacket practically removing his source of flailing, punching, smacking, sass, and balance, so he'll deal with it for now.

Lucy got his prescription and a small cup of water. Getting two of his painkillers, she placed them carefully in his mouth, to which he complied to, and helped him sip the water. After the gulp Lucy put her hands on her hips and looked at him with a stern look. “Open your mouth.” He did, even sticking his tongue up and putting it back down. Lucy smiled with pride at him after seeing the painkillers were indeed gone, and John would have at least smirked back but his mouth hurt too much.

Grabbing the handles of the wheelchair, the nurse wheeled the man out and into a hall that led to the community hall, or in John’s opinion- huge over occupied high school lunchroom. Lucy rolled him to an empty metal picnic table and happily spoke to him. “I will be right back, mister Doe! I am going to get your breakfast!” John nodded and with that response she ran to the window to get just a minimalist lunch for her patient.

The inmate took a look at his surroundings, he looked to the bundles of metal tables toward the right back across the hall, which seemed to be the girls section. The side he was on was filled with other men and a butch-like woman scattered in some places, having arm wrestling matches with some of the other men. John had to admit, he was intimidated. Most people there not only looked taller, but bigger, which to John was a flashing and blaring red alarm. He never liked being around many people, much less people who looked like they could pummel his face and skull into jelly.

A tray got placed a bit too hastily onto the table, which caused a loud _CLUNK_ that made John’s head snap to in front of him, eyes wide from shock.

“Oh! I am so sorry John, I didn’t mean to scare you!” He let out a relieved held breath of air realizing it was just his nurse. Shrugging, he played it off like no big deal. Lucy sat next to him, apologizing mentally over and over in her head, she felt horrible for scaring him, it’s something to remember though. _Mental note: John can be scared easily by sudden loud noises_. The nurse smiled once more as she helped John eat his mini pancakes, which he made a disgusted face at.

“Don’t like pancakes?” He shrugs in response. To him they tasted like powdered, chunk water, which was disgusting. If he had to though, he would keep eating, and his stomach was begging for food so he kept eating. This made Lucy unbelievably happy, for what reason she didn’t know but she kept helping him eat until he made a non-verbal jolt away from the little bit a food left. After drinking some water, John felt relaxed now that the painkillers were settling in, and his stomach wasn’t empty, of course that wouldn’t remove the horrible chunky water paste taste in his mouth, but it was very worth it.

John contemplated the next task at hand, until a very soft alarm screamed from above. Lucy clapped her hands together, “Looks like its group therapy time! It’s going to be great, John, so don’t worry!” He rolled his eyes. Group activity has never been his shtick, that didn’t stop this from happening though as Lucy grabbed the wheelchair handles again and wheeled him down a large hallway in the middle of the back wall of the lunchroom, which apparently was the way to go for all types of therapies.

Art, music, even yoga. What kind of pansies have that kind of therapy? John scoffed at it all but once he was wheeled into a pretty shabby room with chairs in a circle already filling up with other patients, he would have much preferred doing art.

A doctor walked in and sat in one of the empty chairs left, looking around the room with a smile and bright aura. “Hello patients! My name is doctor Hun, and I will be your group therapist! I see many familiar faces, but I also see some newer ones!” His squinted eyes looked over toward John, and a couple other patients who were one very skinny girl with burn scars on her body, and the second being one of the butch arm wrestling ladies from the cafeteria, whose fro hair John couldn’t help but give mental praise too, it looked super good.

“Now, I am going to just ask everyone to introduce themselves in a clockwise fashion so our newcomers can feel more closer!”

John’s throat dried at that, he hated this place.

* * *

About an hour later, the group released and everyone either went back to their rooms or back to the community hall. Lucy placed John back at the same empty metal table she did that morning, and had a nervous look. “Okay, John, I will be _riiight_ back, okay? I have to drop something off that I forgot!” With that the nurse ran off in a hurry, almost knocking over two other nurses on the way, who yelled at her with curses before going back onto their route. Watching that made the young man snort, and he turned around to watch the hall from afar once more.

He was quite glad that no one seemed to pay any mind to him, not even the big beefed up ones. John had to remember as well that this wasn’t prison, this was an asylum, so people weren’t as violent for no reason… At least not commonly.

The man inhaled and exhaled, relaxing himself and found himself dozing off, almost feeling disconnected from himself. He strangely loved the feeling of dissociation, unless someone ruins it, like right now. John jolts up as a huge bandaged hand slams on the table. Gulping and looking up, the young man could see a terrifyingly enormous black man glaring daggers at him.

“You new?” His voice was as deep and gruff like his figure. John nodded, feeling his nervousness shoot through the roof. The big guy smiled as two other inmates, both smaller than the huge guy, but larger than John.

“Can’t talk smiley?” He wanted to say no, but found he could only choke on the lump in his throat, quickly shaking his head as a response. “Well that's too bad, we wanted to hear the story behind the wicked smile you got on yo’ face. Ain’t that right boys?” He asked turning to his two friends, and they nodded, arms crossed over their chests.

“Well I’m Mason. That ginger to the left of me is Gus, and the homie to the right is Dion.” The two waved. Mason, the big guy, sighed and chuckled.

“So what do we call you? Smiley? Pumpkin head?” He cackled at his ‘ _creative_ ’ two names, Gus and Dion chuckling as well. John rolled his eyes, nervousness had left his system and was replaced by immediate annoyance and irritation. Mason noticed the eye roll and huffed.

“Didn’t like my nicknames for yah, shorty?” Now that one just hurt. John cringed and shrugged as a way to say ‘t _hey kind of sucked._ ’ Mason put one foot up on the seats of the table and loomed over the man. “Think you tough just ‘cause you silent?” Oh this guy had no idea. With no response from the young man, Mason grabbed John by the collar of his straight jacket and pulled him up.

“Fuckin’ drugged and strapped up criminal, and you can’t even say a word back to me? I would prefer bein’ insulted by yo’ lanky ass than be given silent mockry!” Besides the horribly said word ‘ _mockery_ ’, John couldn’t think of anything good to stop the feeling of fear rush to his guts. This man had to be a good 6 feet tall, plus his extremely packed and muscular build, made him all the more terrifying now that he was up close and personal.

All of a sudden Mason was pulled back and turned around by a familiar person. It was the black women with the hell-of good fro from John’s group therapy.

“Mason the hell you think you doin’?” Mason and his friends stopped, going silent. Of course the big guy tried to clear his throat and awkwardly put his hands on his hips.

“W-well you see Kia he is just- just the new guy so I thought… thought I’d put him through initiation!” Kia smacked him.

“Yo' ass lucky nurses don’t give two rats’ ass about us picking small fights, but with a tied up small fry? THAT'S what you go for?!” Honestly John didn’t think Kia would stand up for him, she made it clear back in group therapy she was a lone wolf and kind of hardhearted… It’s nice to see otherwise.

“Now how about you go sit yo’ ass back down at the table and don’t pick fights with small fries!!” The large woman pointed to the table that Mason and his friends had come from, and they all walked over to it with irritated faces. She huffed and turned to the now reseated John.

“Sorry about those guys John. I saw earlier how you couldn’t speak during doctor Hun’s stupid introduction circle. If they bother you again, run and come find me.” She winked and gave a thumbs up to John, who genuinely smiled at the gesture. Kia walked away, and as she did Lucy had rushed back.

The rest of the day was spent with a very peppy and hyper Lucy trying to ease John into the asylum, some questionable looking meals, pain meds, and happiness that John could have a friend that wasn’t a nurse who would look after him in this hellhole. He rates it a 6 out of 10. For now.


	2. Silent Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to make John speak, Mason devises a cruel plan that ends up getting his friends and John in trouble.

John yawned without stretching his mouth too much. It was only the fifth day of being in the asylum, and he was tired and bored out of his mind. At the moment he, Lucy, and Eloise, who was another girl from group therapy, were playing chess and he was failing horribly. His yawning occurring only because this chess match was boring him, but not as much as it was irritating him.

“Johnny you gotta make some better moves, hun.” Eloise spoke in her high-pitched, heavy southern tone. Lucy chuckled when John groaned and the other blonde giggled. At the moment the young man’s nurse was helping him coordinate moves, teaching him to play as the game goes on. Eloise, before committing five acts of identity theft, was a reigning chess champion in Georgia so her being slow and going easy on John made him both relieved but extremely peeved since she was super smug about everything, and basically looked down on his skills to play a stupid board game. His eyes flickered to a space on the board, signalling the nurse to move his right pawn there, in the end that proved useless as Eloise’s horse trampled his pawn completely.

If he had arms available right now he would flip the table and then himself just because this was tiring. “At least you moved it to a good spot John!” His nurse was way too peppy with those words and he just shrugged in response. It wasn’t a good spot, he could’ve placed it in a better spot but he didn’t want to exercise his brain this early in the afternoon.

Eloise a couple moves later beat John for the fifth time that day. She threw her arms up and bounced in her seat, a smile plastered on her face. “Another victory for me Johnny boy!” He responded with a scoff, looking to the side to avoid her prideful look. Lucy laughed at this.

It was the moments where patients showed just how normal they were that made her heart sing happily. Like how Eloise always gets a sense of pride from winning, or how John deals with losses by silently sassing others. Even Mason acts normal when it comes to reading, he looks like a book worm from afar, and Kia acts like a big sister to everyone while taking shit from nobody.

The peppy inmate cleaned up the chess pieces and put them back in a bin against the wall, skipping happily away back to the right side of the hall. Lucy softly grabbed John’s shoulders, smiling down at him. “Wasn’t that fun after some boring therapy? Seems like some of the girls are taking a liking to you!” The small man rolled his eyes, he didn’t care much about making friends, or the fact that girls were mostly coming up to him. He supposed women were more calm and patient with people like him. Silent, tied and restrained, sometimes delayed responses. Some of the men in the left wing didn’t have that kind of patience with him, they got mad too fast or accused him of being a sad clown in disguise, which was just a plain insult.

Lucy wheeled her patient to the same metal table he has been sitting at since arrival, and ran off to go get his lunch. Since there was a long line, John wasn’t expecting her to be back till most the food either ran out, or got cold. This left him alone though, and of course not but a minute after Lucy left, Mason came over and sat down looking at him with daggers in the eyes.

John shifted as if to say ‘what?’ The larger man scoffed and opened his mouth to speak.

“You keep getting all the girls smiley and you an’ me are gonna have a problem.” John raised a brow at this, confused about what Mason had meant about that. “What, you deaf now too? If you keep messin’ and talkin’ to all them pretty women, I won’t have no choice but to beat yo’ ass into the ground. You can keep all them uglies though.” The last sentence he had waved his hand up and down towards John. Again he was confused, he wasn’t trying to get any ladies, especially not here. Fuck trying to get some, if he couldn’t tell Mason that he had no interest in the women here then surely some hands would be thrown and John already knows that he doesn’t want to go into the unit, especially if it contains the ‘turtle suit’ as some of the misfit inmates explained.

“I can tell you wanna talk smack, so how ‘bout we get you out of that little speechless bubble of you, yeah?” Shit. John didn’t like any situation that made him speak, it only made him anxious about what was going to be done in order to get him too, but he remembered that god didn’t love him, so it was probably going to be bad. Mason chuckled and got up to walk away to his group, at the same time Lucy had finally come back with a tray of mashed potatoes, carrots, a small steak, and an orange juice box. Ever since his vitals were taken earlier that day around 4 in the morning, John has felt a bit weaker so he was very thankful that Lucy brought him orange juice to fuel himself back up, even if the taste sucked.

“So what did Mason have to say to you?” She raised a brow at him while helping him eat. He paused, how would he put it nonverbally? Seeing his furrowed face, it was something that couldn’t just be answered with shrugs or eye movements, and Lucy could understand that. While it worried her, she was more concerned about future conversations if John refused to speak, even situations that could be misread.

Screaming could be heard from Mason’s group which made John and Lucy jolt in shock, snapping their heads to view what was happening. Gus was on the ground writhing and crying, another large man with long raven hair and beard held him down onto the ground, pulling the lankier guy’s arms with a boot between his shoulder blades. Nurses rushed into the lunchroom to get the large man off of Gus, only for the man to shove the nurses to the sides and continue ripping Gus’s arms from the socket.

Oh how John wished he was asleep now so he wouldn’t have to hear the slow and sickening crunch of Gus’s arms finally being torn and ripped in a few seconds, going limp onto the ground as the large man stopped, and removed his boot. Male nurses were groaning getting up off the ground as Lucy went to wheel John back to his room. Both froze though when the large man turned his attention toward the two.

‘ _ Please don’t kill us. Please don’t kill us. Please don’t… _ ’ Ran through the young nurse’s mind as she stared with fear back at the large man. A few seconds into being frozen the man pointed at John and yelled. “You! Shortstack!” If he wasn’t scared, John would’ve rolled his eyes in response, but as the man walked closer to him and the nurse, he felt fear shoot through his back.

“Somebody told me you were the ladies man. Well you see that-” The man pointed at Gus who was now being put onto a stretcher while a couple nurses got booty-juice ready to inject into the man once he was far away enough from Lucy and John. “-THAT is what happens when you talk to MY girls!” John glanced behind the man to see Mason smirking. John’s face furrowed into anger. That bastard.

The man pushed Lucy away and onto the ground, her yelps snapped John out of his spurt ofrage just as he had the collar of his straight jacket nabbed and pulled up out of the wheelchair. Fuckfuckfuck- is what was running through the young man's head as this building of a guy lifted him a good half foot off the ground. “Now, Mason told me you happened to be a ladies man, so this is your warning to back off. Anything you got to say for yourself?” The man spoke in a harsh but quiet tone towards John, which was intimidating as hell. John wanted to honestly talk, and just as the lump in his throat came up and he opened his mouth, the guy yowled as one of the larger male nurses injected him with a green syringe. John was dropped and with his legs he pushed the floor with his feet to scurry away from the man that had now tumbled to the ground where the young man had just been, the guy now unconscious. 

John, with his face pressed into the ground, silently thanked god for noticing he was a human for once, but that didn’t last long as he also felt something poke at his behind, last thing he heard before blacking out was Lucy screaming at the person who was behind John.

* * *

Groaning John slowly woke up, he was still in his straight jacket and striped pants, but in a padded white room that was so disgustingly plain and bland to the eye. Was this a unit? Made him wonder what happened to the big guy, and even Gus. That poor ginger had his arms torn from his arm sockets and crunched, and the inmate couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Gus was in without cringing.

A few minutes had gone by until Lucy had opened the door to the unit John was in, which made him undeniably happy seeing a familiar face. “Mister Doe I am so sorry! The other nurses had thought you were what caused Jones to go violent so they sedated you.” That would explain it, John did supposedly piss Mason off. Also, that was the big guy’s name? Jones? For such a huge dude, he imagined a scarier name like Arragon or something.

Lucy helped her patient up, and escorted him out of the unit. They were stopped by a doctor who asked about the situation, but since John couldn’t talk he couldn’t say what Mason had said to him, or what Jones was going to do to him all because he talked with a few girls, the doctor gave up asking and didn’t even turn to the nurse escorting John, only walking away to what the scarred inmate could assume was the other units. Now he sees why hanging out with women is better than men in this place, it was obvious most of them were possessive of a few of the girls, which just made it  _ better  _ for the 21 year old’s stay in the asylum.

Since he couldn’t tell the doctors anything, and Lucy had no clue as to what exactly caused that type of violence in the first place, John was sent back to his room and he spent the rest of the day just sleeping in. His nurse watched over him with a sad look, to which even in a dead sleep he could feel the gaze, and it plagued even his dreams as what he came to call  _ ‘void’  _ turned into sad eyes, the birch tree pattern confusing and scaring John, but he stayed asleep. He was tired.

Mason, Dion, and Jones in the meantime served a good few hours in their units, each wrapped up in straight jackets. Apparently from Dion’s story, Mason was jealous that John got along well with quite a few girls for being a new inmate, and wanted to show him a lesson if he didn’t speak up about it, so Mason went to Jones and told him that John and Gus were flirting with the couple girls that Jones had some crushes on. Since Gus could speak and walk freely, Jones tore his arms for the reason that he wouldn’t touch the girls he liked, and John, well he just wanted the little bastard to admit that he was talking to his girls and say he was going to stay away, less he have his body broken more than Gus’ limbs. Dion may have been a tough guy, but he could never lie; the time when he smoked a cig in the bathrooms that was brought in by a visitor, everyone could smell it on him, but he couldn’t lie to the doctors about it, he cracked very easily under the pressure of lying, so the story about the day’s story with all the guys lined up, made sense, and is very believable.

Dion was released before the other two around midnight, and sent to his room. Mason and Jones had to stay for at least 2 days to think about what they did, which pisses them both off through the roof. Doctors could care less about them, and the nurses around the asylum have hated the two ever since they got admitted. Mason knew once he got out of the unit, he was going to wreck smiley. He was going to break his spirit, and his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mason isn't too happy is he? Oh well, his fault :)


	3. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the state prison of Illinois said they were 'full', this young man was instead transferred to the state government's insane asylum. John can't tell if he is pleased or annoyed with this new inmate's presence, and the newcomer can't tell if he'll have an easier or harder time adjusting here compared to prison. At least people are less racist there.

He looked at the papers. “Illinois Government Asylum for Criminals.” The man struggled with his cuffs as he browsed through what ‘ _benefits_ ’ this asylum had for him.

“Tyrone, right? Look, the place ain’t that bad. We didn’t have room in that tiny little prison for you, just be glad that's the case. That place is filthy brother.” The driver said to the inmate in the back. Tyrone rolled his eyes and replied. “I don’t know man, wouldn’t a normal prison be better for a guy like me?” The driver scoffed.

“If you like hardcore racism and risk of dropping the soap.” Tyrone paused at that. “The asylum ain’t as racist to a colored man like me?” Tyrone heard the guy upfront laugh loudly. “Nah brother! Nurses don’t give two shits about anybody, but that place is the definition of ‘ _mixed_ ’ as ‘ _mixed_ ’ can get! From what I know, unless you are an asshole inmate, nobody cares what color you are, only if you are good or bad. Depending on how the actual insane ones view you. And I’ll be honest, they are truthful about how they see you so get ready for criticism about your whole personality! Haha!”

It comforted the prisoner a bit to know that. The prison, as he called Crackhole prison, was very racist and everyone judged you no matter what, especially the color of someone's skin. Tyrone in no way was diagnosed with any mental illnesses, which concerned him about being transferred here, but when prisons were full, inmates came here. So, now, he was stuck on this train with no way out.

* * *

Tyrone was shoved awake when the van came to an abrupt halt and the back doors opened to a doctor and two nurses, a male, and a female.

“You must be-” The Asian doctor ruffled through his papers on his clipboard, and made an ‘ _aha_ ’ when he found the information he needed. “-Tyrone Murburrow! Welcome young man!” He cringed at just how happy this doctor was, and could tell the other two nurses were as well. The cop that was driving the van came up and led him out, giving him to the doctor, signing something on the clipboard, then leaving with a salute towards Tyrone. ‘ _Men of color gotta look out for each other._ ’ That thought gave him some comfort, but it was abruptly stopped when the doctor and nurses escorted him inside the asylum.

* * *

After registration, Tyrone got a fresh new pair of clothes, and a room assignment.

“Now, Tyrone. Since we want you to feel more welcomed and not alone, we are going to assign you to a room with already one inmate! He is currently in the medical wing at the moment so when you get there, he will probably still be in operation.” Doctor Hun explained to the man. The prisoner raised a brow, what kind of operation? Was he going to have to deal with a cripple for a roommate? He could save those questions for later as the doctor nudged him to the left wing and to an empty room. One bed was on the left, and one of the right. The right bed was tidy and cleaned, looked almost dusty from being unused, however the left was different, it was unkempt and looked like a tornado rolled through it. Guess his new roommate was an active sleeper then.

Tyrone sat on his new bed and just looked around. Gray, gray, and more gray. The color palette was just the same as his old prison, but instead of being alone, barred windows, and barred doors, there was a heavy metal door, no windows, one light, a roommate, and actual bedding. The man just thought to himself for what seemed like hours, lying down on his bed. Thinking of what was going to happen now.

Stuck in an asylum for criminal crazies. For freaks. He could’ve fended fine in a normal prison. That no room option was just a lazy excuse to not take in another inmate when they had room. At least his gang wasn’t arrested. Then no telling which, what, and where they would all end up, the possibility of being split up scared them all.

The man was startled to sit up straight as a nurse opened the door to the room, then wheeling in a small guy- or, boy? After rolling him in, the nurse looked up and gasped, smiling and going to tap the other’s shoulder. “Oh look John! This must be your new roommate!” Her voice to Tyrone was a heavy Chicago accent, and super squeaky, making his ears want to bleed. John, since being hunched over when coming in, had to look up with tired eyes at the new guy in his room.

Standing up, Tyrone dusted himself off and held his hand out to the nurse. “I’m Tyrone.” She giggled, shaking it. “Such manners! I am Lucy, and this here-” she took a moment to pause and gently grab the other inmate’s shoulders, pulling him up slightly. “-is John Doe!” So, a no name? Rare to see these days to the transfer. The man then held his hand to John, who glanced at him carefully, then slowly and very shakily grabbed his hand and shook it, letting go after a second. The smaller man’s hands were sweaty, the inmate realized.

“Now, I got a few papers to get through, in about an hour you two can come out to the community hall. For now though, get to know each other and play nice! Especially you Mistah J!” With that she skipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Tyrone sat back down on his bed with a huff, and glanced at John who was just gazing into nothing as he sat still in his wheelchair.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he cleared his throat. “Soooo, you got no name, huh?” John snapped to reality and peered up to look at Tyrone through his messy hair, giving a simple nod. “Not everyday you meet someone with no name. Did you use to have a name?” Another nod of his head. The prisoner could only assume John was mute, which was going to make communication difficult, to say the least. How tedious.  


“You been here long?” John shook his head. Tyrone took mental notes down about how to continue the conversation, and _totally-not-but-kind-of-is_ interrogation. He had to know this place, guess he could always ask others when they had to leave for the community hall. Just then, as he was studying John, he came to realize John was facing his mouth down, and away from him. “Before coming here, the doc said you were in an operation. Is that why you’re looking away from me?” John made no movements, instead just glanced at the other man. Now, Tyrone was no mind reader or detective, but he was going to take the silence as a yes. “Is that why you're also mute?” A shake of the head. “Were you always mute?” Another shake. The inmate didn’t know whether to continue asking or not, after all, he was in a loony-bin. If the man pressed too far, this silent small man could jump him, and no one would know until the nurse came by again. That didn’t settle well with him.

The room was filled with complete silence, only sound that the newcomer could hear was his own voice, which unsettled him how quiet the other guy breathed. It felt like an assassin hiding, about to attack even though you are staring straight at him.

As time passed, the door opened with a loud crack, causing Tyrone to shoot up from his bed out of instinct. John was unfazed, surprisingly. “Oh good glad to see you two in one piece! Sorry if John wasn’t very interactive, he had to have some good pain meds after his operation!” She chuckled at that as she walked in to grab the wheelchair her patient was sitting in. That made more sense to the inmate, who during that whole hour took glances at John to see him spacing, unmoving and still.

The nurse, Lucy, motioned at Tyrone to follow her as she walked out of the door. He assumed they were going to the community hall, and as they kept walking, his assumption was correct.

* * *

John was wheeled to his normal table. He could hear Lucy say something about ‘ _crappy paperwork_ ’ and ‘ _nice_ ’ before she left him at the table. The drugs in his system were a good hour from partially leaving him, and he kept spacing out. Ever since he was taken to the medical wing to get his stitches removed and burns checked, he hasn’t been in quite the lovely mood.

When he heard he was getting a roommate on his way back to his jail of a room, he wasn’t too happy, even groaning in complaint to Lucy who just giggled at him.

Questions and more questions. It was like interrogation on LSD for John, who paid as much attention as possible when Tyrone asked questions. He actually thanked whatever god gave him mercy today that the other guy gave no mind to him once they reached the community hall. John definitely needed a spa day eventually…

_**SLAP.** _

The small man jerked up and turned to the noise. Eloise stood smiling like a maniac at him. “Aw poor Johnny! They got you all drugged uuup! Now how are we going to play cheeessssss.” She whined in her peppy tone, which felt like nails on a chalkboard to the silenced’s ears. Eloise instantly swerved down to sit down next to John, just looking at him with a smile. He glared at her as to ask ‘ _what do you want?_ ’

“How’s your mouth?” Her smile never leaving, the young adult couldn’t give her more of a deadpan face. Since they had removed his straight jacket during and after operation, he could move his hand to do a very shaky half and half movement. “Well glad it isn’t painful, but daaaamn it left a super cool scar!” He raised an eyebrow to her. “What? Did you not look in the mirror silly?” He shook his head. “Oh my goodness! We gotta find a mirror to show you! Hold on, give me a second I will be right back hun!” And with that she hopped off her seat and ran somewhere that John honestly could care less about.

Taking a deep breath, the mute relaxed into his chair, flexing his muscles every minute or so. Popping his bones felt so nice now that he was able too. Free of his jacket and once the drugs wore off, he’d be free of the damn wheelchair too. He couldn’t wait to actually be active again, just the thought of it sent unneeded adrenaline through his body, causing him to flinch a bit in over-stimulation. Well at least the drugs would burn off faster.

Yelling and loud laughter could be heard from Mason’s table, causing John to peek at the commotion. His new roommate was laughing with Mason. The brunet groaned, the last thing he needed was someone he already didn’t like, becoming buddy-buddy up with someone who he _REALLY_ didn’t like.

After facepalming, he looked back up to the group, and saw Mason pointing at him. Tyrone was looking at where he was pointing and John noted a flash of surprise painted itself on his roommate’s face. Next thing he knew, the two black men were strolling over to him. John wanted to actually throw himself out a window as he saw they were indeed walking to his table, and not just taking a swerve to get food or something.

Mason sat down across from him with a grunt, a smile plastered on his face, Tyrone sitting to the left of Mason between them. “Yo Smiley you didn’t tell me you got a new roomie. Especially a funny one!” The large man snorted and John’s roommate simply smiled. Tyrone officially got a better look at John’s face, and he could see exactly why Mason called him ‘ _Smiley_ ’. The smaller man of the trio didn’t notice his ‘ _friend_ ’ observing his face as he glared at Mason annoyingly.

“Still can’t talk Shorty? Well that is one big shame! Ain’t it Ty?” Tyrone nodded to Mason, taking his focus away from John’s face. Waving his hand as a sign to ‘ _shoo_ ’ towards Mason, and indirectly Tyrone, the young man was replied to with a huff. “Well damn be that way then. I’mma hang out with the new homie!” Mason turned around and got up, walking back to his table, not even looking back to notice his new ‘ _homie_ ’ didn’t get up with him.

The man got a raised eyebrow from John, a silent question, he assumed. “Didn’t know that's what your face looked like. Looks hella nasty man.” He received an eye roll as a response. “Guessing you and Mason ain’t to keen of each other?” A nod. “Guess I’ll keep an eye out then.” If you were to look at John’s face, you would’ve thought he just saw the most adorable kid get run over by a monster truck with how wide and shocked his eyes and expression were. Tyrone chuckled and got up to walk over to Mason who yelled out to him with joy, the rest of their table telling him to come join back again with happiness.

John watched, too, as he left. In his previous, sane, life he would be scoffed at for having any sort of beef with anybody, and he never felt sorry when that reaction stabbed those very same people in the back later on. This was the first time someone took a heads up, nonverbally as well.

Maybe Tyrone won’t be horrible as his new roommate, but he definitely won’t be completely pleasant…

“Johnnyyy! I got a nurse to help me get to a mirror! That means we can go see your awesome scar!” He groaned, annoyed that the southern girl has come to curse him with her peppy attitude once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New character new character! WOOP! As we are on our third chapter, how about you tell me what you think? I am trying to write as much as possible but as burnout comes way too quick for me, I will be pacing myself between works/chapters.


	4. Words Make A Workout Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Tyrone get to spend some quality time together in the courtyard, however a comment and an old face ruins the first day of being out in sunlight since a long time for John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter became almost twice as long as the average amount of words from my other chapters, so be ready for a long read meine Lieblinge. (uploaded at 01:20)

“Unfortunately I got some paperwork concerning some troublesome patients today, so can I trust you to watch over John in the yard?” Lucy asked Tyrone sweetly. She had pulled him aside into the hallway while John was still waking up. “Uhm yeah miss Lucy but- did you ask Marriane?” Tyrone knew that he wasn’t assigned to Lucy like John was, and wondered if knew too. “Yup! In fact she has a similar situation, so both us girls are going to have some fun trying to do paperwork. There are already some other nurses out there, probably for a smoke break, so you don’t have to worry about being alone.” With that last sentence she sent a smile towards Tyrone, and just as John groggily stepped out of the door Lucy had walked away.

The older man turned to the smaller and smiled. “Well good morning sleeping beauty, was starting to wonder if you were in a coma.” That earned him a very light punch to the elbow, laughing after. “Let’s go get some breakfast, I gotta be your escort to the yard since my nurse and yours have to do homework.” John scoffed in response and just started walking to the community hall ahead of Tyrone.

Why did no one tell Tyrone that Asylum food was absolutely disgusting? He was seated next to Mason, Gus, Dion, Jones, and a few other has-beens, picking at his slosh called breakfast while the group around him bellowed with corny jokes, insults, and laughter. “-and so I said to ‘im, if you’re gonna try and be tough, you might as well live as a shrimp in the ocean!” Tyrone rolled his eyes at Gus. The redhead made awful jokes but yet, people around him laughed. He didn’t regret becoming a part of this friend group, he was just starting to get tired of them. Although it was worth it to see John give him acknowledgement for warning him about anything from Mason, following the warning to a T. The prisoner felt pride seeing John listening to him, it reminded him of his old gang.

“Gus you fucker!” Dion shouted, snapping Tyrone back to reality and looked at Gus taking away Dion’s orange juice and chugging it like it was the last thing on Earth. “Haaaah! You snooze you lose l’ idiot!” Gus’ heavily french accent poured into his words, and Dion’s italian poured back with an insult. “Sei un coglione Gus!” Laughter bellowed at the duo’s foreign exchange of curses to each other as Dion kept yelling at Gus for drinking all of his juice- his one per meal juice. Tyrone rolled his eyes and finished the slop on his tray, standing and taking it back to the lunch ladies and men.

Glancing over he could see John sitting next to Kia and Eloise. Kia had paper and a crayon and was lending them to John, which Tyrone could only assume was for communication amongst the three. He walked over with a smile. “Hey John, you ready to head to the yard? Just cuz’ you’re crazy doesn’t mean you can slack off.” John smirked back and nodded, standing up to follow Tyrone out to the yard where the asylum’s gym equipment, obviously monitored, was stationed, along with nice fresh air for inmates to breathe just when they needed some. “Cya Johnny boy! Okay anyway Kia I was thinkin-” Eloise’s voice grew further away as Tyrone and John waved and left, walking at a decent pace.

“So good news, I didn’t hear any plans about tryin’ to break your bones from Mason yet.” John nodded at his roommate. Thank god. In the week that Tyrone has been here, the shorter couldn’t help but find trust in him as his warnings got him out of dangerous situations. The guard who had escorted Tyler in a cop van to this shitshack didn’t lie when he said people didn’t care in this place about race, but if you looked at someone the wrong way you’d definitely get fucked up. Short, tall, woman, man, nonbinary, white, black, asian, it all didn’t matter when it came to how others saw you, and how you see others. The inmate knew now it was about respect. Or whatever crazy saw you as an obstacle for whatever.

Reaching the yard, a male nurse was waiting at the entrance and stood to attention when Tyrone and John approached. “You John Doe and Tyrone Murburrow?” Both nodded. The other pointed to the entrance of the yard. “Go ahead, we’ll be watching.” Another silent nod as response, and they went forward. Tyrone’s eyes fixated on the barbells, which seemed to be colored and covered with a leather foam instead of the black metal he’d see at the gym’s around Illinois. Before picking up a 25 pounder, which was the max sadly, the man turned to see where John had gone, and saw the small one doing simple stretches. The way John did them however reminded him of a male ballerina, odd. Mentally shrugging he grabbed one of the 25s and sat on a bench, slowly working his left arm. Felt good to workout for the first time in a couple weeks. He may have skipped gym the week before he got arrested, and while he was sad there weren't any heavier bells, he was happy that at least he has movement for once that wasn’t just walking up and down the halls of the hospital. After a couple of minutes of him switching back and forth he stood up, since the bench was making his ass sore, it was definitely not the most practical bench for lifting.

John approached Tyrone with a tilted head. The man smiled and looked down at John. “What’s up?” John awkwardly shuffled before pointing to his own arm, holding his left up as how bodybuilders hold up theirs during an arm muscle presentation. His roommate laughed and could swear he saw John’s face go very red. “You want to get stronger? Lemme see what muscle you got.” He said with amusement. Why not help out his roommate gain a little muscle? John huffed and pulled back both his sleeves, revealing surprisingly thick arms, but when flexed Tyrone could see the young adult didn’t have much muscle on him. He glanced back and forth between John and the arms and chuckles. “Aight I can help you out, we can start small though with some simple barbell lifting, you can lift twenty-five pounds right?” His friend nodded in response. “Mkay good. We can do this as often as possible, I saw you doing some stretches over there, you used to muscle building exercises?” John gave a half and half hand signal. “Then I am gonna take a wild guess those stretches were for flexibility?” The brunet slash greenet nodded. Tyrone picked up two 25 pounders and set one in each of John’s hands. “Now, thirty reps each side, ten second pause, thirty reps each again, ten second pause, repeat for about 5 minutes at a time.” John nodded. Due to his past experiences, he could already tell that his arms were going to be sore by lunch tomorrow. The smaller of the two sat on the uncomfortable bench his roommate was previously sitting on and started the exercise.

The inmate would have his roommate do those arm crunches right after John does his stretches, and he would set him up on the weight bench for about 5 minutes as well. While John may have had some muscle on him, he was definitely not fit for overkill yet.. 

John groaned lightly as he finished, to him it felt like he was lifting almost 2 milk jugs per hand, but if he felt the burn that must mean he was doing it right. Tyrone motioned him to the weight benches to their left on the black tar mat, which was odd seeing that grass and heavy-duty fences surrounded them as they were simply on concrete and tar platforms. The pale man waved himself off trying to cool his face, which his roommate noted was pink in color. “You heat easily?” Tyrone was given a nod, and he chuckled. John took off his overshirt, leaving him only in what the other could see as a padded and thick tank top, or a no-show. Tying the long sleeves of his overshirt around his waist, John laid on the bench and looked toward Tyrone on how to properly lift the bar, as once in his childhood he can remember breaking his wrist over 1) stupidly carrying more than over half his own weight and 2) holding it incorrectly. There were only a max up to 20 lbs as the weights, and only 2 in each quantity’s 5 lbs down, including the 20 the black man held in his hands. Placing and securing them on the bar, he took his roommate’s hands and placed them onto the bar, each just an inch away from the same axis of the man’s shoulders. “Now I am going to spot you and make sure you do this correctly. We are going to start with just five lifts, break on the chest for five seconds, lift five again, then hold in the air for five, and repeat the sequence in that pattern until it seems like 5 minutes, ‘kay John?” The mute nodded, and a genuine smile flashed on his face instead of his permanent one.

When John had started, he practically nailed it to a T. The older couldn’t help but feel pride for the smaller man. Pride aside though, because the mute’s overshirt was removed, Tyrone’s eyes studied the much more noticeable streak of extreme paleness on the right of the guy’s body. Tyrone glanced at John every few seconds to make sure he was still doing okay, and not noticing the weird grazing over he was doing, thankfully, John was. He noticed the burns made his roommate seem like a ghost, while the rest of his skin was more redded and tanned making him out to be very, very alive. The smile carved into John’s face was a mystery to Tyrone. Running from one ear, to the other, connected by his actual mouth, the man couldn’t seem to imagine his silent roomie as an extreme self harmer, especially since there were no wrist scars, or arm scars, as he came to find out in his short time at the asylum. Made his mind wander. He knows his circle, and John’s circles backstories, all except the greenet himself. The snap of the bar dropping back to its place slapped Tyrone out of his thoughts. John sat up with a tired smile, breathing actually audible, but not loud enough to show the man was completely wiped out.

John stood up and looked at Tyrone, raising a brow and basically asking ‘what now?’ Tyrone racked his brain some, but when taking a glance at the smaller man’s face- he laughed.

Furrowing his face, he wanted to know why his roommate was laughing while looking at him. What did he do? Was there something on his face? The mute prayed it wasn’t bird poop since there wasn’t exactly a ceiling to protect him from said situation. The man noticed John’s look and waved his hand. “I-I’m not laughin’ at you, I am laughin’ because you remind me of this stupid comic book villain.” He wheezed out another heartfelt laugh. “Anyone ever say you look like the Joker?” He bursted again. John however, did not find it amusing. All readable emotions were wiped from the inmates face as Tyrone kept laughing. 

John clenched his fist. His knuckles going white from how hard he clenched them, Tyrone gasped for air as suddenly a fist was in his gut, directly, in his gut. Trailing the fist to the arm, the man found its user to be his own roommate. His own roommate, the guy who hadn’t touched a soul for any insult before, punched him, and had been glaring daggers at him. Releasing his fist Tyrone fell to his knees, hugging his gut area. He could hear the angry shuffle of John’s feet, getting quieter and quieter. He assumed the nurses weren’t watching, or didn’t care to watch at such a silly sight. I mean getting taken down by someone close to a foot shorter than you? That in many’s eyes was pretty pitiful.

Tyrone stood up, balancing himself on the bar that John had just previously used, and looked to find John walking around the court, where a not so big running track was, only 15 yards away from where he was.

* * *

John’s brain relapsed to his friend’s comment. He was thankful he was just walking along the track, otherwise he’d be trying his damndest to beat the ever-loving-life out of Tyrone. 

_ You realize you sound like the Joker when you laugh right? You even talk like him! _

_ I think for halloween you should dress up as Joker! You wouldn’t have to wear makeup for the smile since you are already doing that constantly! _

He went into a slow jog at those words. Before those comments, he had loved reading about the villain in his comics. As a child you could suppose he was the perfect definition of a shell of the Joker, and by accident. He hated it, being compared like that. It was worse to think about when those comments came from his new friends just because of how he laughed or smiled, even how he talked. But, they didn’t know that the friends before him compared him to the crazed comic villain for his actions, not how he behaved. How old was he then? 7? Maybe 8… John couldn’t rack the age of when the insults started pouring in like hail in a monsoon season. A reason he hated kids and didn’t want to have any, they could be surprisingly mean, even more so than the ‘bully’ Mason, who is quite easy to dodge compared to being cornered by other kids in your class.

Breath started to become ragged, and his throat filled with extremely cold air as he inhaled. When did he start to run along the track? And where did the giant roadblock come from? John stopped only to skid and hit the person in front of him roughly. The man laughed and looked down at John, who froze in fright. Looming well over a foot over him was Mason, arms crossed and face plastered with a shit eating grin. “Smiley going for a mindless jog?” Gulping down his nervousness, he nodded in response. “Mind if I make it more of a workout for yah?” John raised a brow at Mason. Then, as quickly as John bumped into Mason, the built man grabbed the lankier man’s arm, and reached to grab his leg, John felt a scream lodged in his throat that wouldn’t release as Mason hoisted him well above the ground, and right above the taller’s head. “Told yah I would break your bones eventually smiles!” Then Mason hurled him toward the ground. John felt his head slam into the skin of the track, just then his vision ran dark. The last thing he could hear was his roommate’s, and some other foreigners’s shouts and yells before passing out as he was lifted again.

* * *

Lucy groaned as she shredded the last bit of papers from the 70s. Marriane yawned, stretching back in her office chair. “Its been foreeevvveerr! When are we done?” Marriane whined. “Marri, you whining and bickering doesn’t speed up the process.” Lucy said tiredly, rolling her eyes at her new office mate. She recalled Marriane being sent in a day before Tyrone showed up, and since they had just started the buddy-office system to save room, Lucy got stuck with the princess from a rich school in New York. Definitely the last person she’d be seen caught dead with.

The blonde signed off one last paper before sighing in complete relief. Taking a minute of sitting back, Lucy stood up and stretched, groaning as she did so. “You’re finished already?!” The brunette’s jaw dropped as she watched her office-mate walk to the exit of the room. “Yup, good luck on your paperwork!” With that Lucy practically sprinted out of the room, leaving Marriane to ask the air where the blonde had just been seconds before.

She would be so happy to see how John and Tyrone got along on their first time alone in the yard together. The nurse had to stop her thoughts from wandering about John’s appearance while working out, blushing as she shook her head at the thought. Absolutely not, she was not going to have that scenario, it was wrong, gross, gross and wrong, in many different ways. But she couldn’t help to just wonder. Once he was out, would he go out and achieve what he wanted? Would he even have the money to go through it? What if the doctor is shady? Or aren’t reliable? What if something went wrong with the procedure? She shook her head again. She knew from the first time she met John, when she had undressed and dressed him again, that the younger wasn’t comfortable with his body, at least in a form of way. He seemed to have cared less about the other parts of his body when he was admitted for the first week, having been seen just about everyday and for showers, only Lucy was allowed to be there for that though as the inmate refused any other watch.. Everywhere but there.. She was glad he trusted her, she wouldn’t mind having the chance to trust him like that either. Smiling at the thought, her mind lined out a possible future with the man. A future where John was innocent, where John wasn’t scarred, burned, wasn’t evil, and could talk. Lucy knew that was a total Harley thought, but she didn’t care, she cared for John, in a way she never had cared for anyone before. His eyes had just drawn her soul to him. The way he would act like a cat when curious, getting easily distracted with things that fidgeted, the way he would look when Eloise and Kia dragged him into a talk about how to impress girls, the way he’d shake off being scarred by a noise, fidgets with his thumbs and bites the inside of the mouth when he got overwhelmed in a seemingly calm environment, and even how he just groans because he wanted five more minutes of sleep. All of that, the blonde would keep close to her heart, she couldn’t help how she felt about John. Lucy wondered if it would stay, dwindle, or continue to grow into something more in the future. One thing the nurse wasn’t sure of, was if John felt any feelings back. If he noticed her quirks, the nickname she gave him, the only nickname she has ever given anybody, the way she’d twirl her hair when annoyed, or how she would sit up straight when bored.

Lucy knew she had to quicken her pace if she wanted to check on John and Tyrone, so she did just that, switching from her thought-bubble pace, to a moderately faster rate without jogging in the heels she had on. When she had arrived at the entrance of the yard, she noticed the male nurse, Nathan, not at his post, nor the other two guards who’d been stationed there specifically for any patients that wanted fresh air and sunshine. That's when she heard shouting. It was distance, but the tone of the yelling was concerning, rushed. Lucy sprinted outside into the yard, scanning around the fenced area, her eyes landing wide on the running track. Nathan, the two guards, Tyrone, and Mason, were in a brawl. Lucy dug into her outfit’s syringe pocket, grabbing the vile from another pocket and after taking the cap off the syringe, she filled it with the green liquid. Running over she noticed Nathan wasn’t injecting anything because his syringe was on the ground in pieces, and the two guards were desperately trying to keep the two men from mauling each other. With swift movements, dodging arms swinging, she pricked Tyrone’s hind with her syringe, and ran to Nathan with another syringe she had in case, to which he got to work quickly with and ran to the now confused Mason, injecting the fluid into the rear of the bigger man as well. Both finally fell to the ground, drugged off their minds.

“Hurry and get them to the white rooms. Nathan, what the HELL happened?” She stood with her hands on her hips, practically shouting at him once the guards managed to drag the two inmates away. “Well, from what I gathered, Mason snuck out and went to John. The guards and I heard shouting right as Mason lifted John’s body from the ground.. Ready to literally mop the floor with the kid.” Lucy felt a frog in her throat, and followed Nathan’s pointed finger to where John was unconscious. Without thought she ran over, fear running through her about anything taking the young man away from her. She kneeled next to John, who was thankfully on his back. She shook him for a couple minutes, repeating his name over and over to hope he would just wake up. “Lu, he took a good beating, he probably has a concussion and he can’t be asleep long. Let's get him to the infirmary.” Nathan explained, and Lucy nodded. With the help of her friend, they were able to lift John bridal style in the male nurse’s arms, and the blonde did her best to walk right next to the brunet nurse. John had survived a burning building collapsing on him, severe burns to his entire right, and was definitely awake while having that damned clown smile carved into his face like he was some jack o’ lantern, so Lucy had a feeling that he would come out from this small inconvenience right as rain in no time.

* * *

John woke up in a bed he could tell wasn’t his own, and as he glanced around he was correct. If he could remember from his very constant visits his first time in the asylum correctly, then he was in the infirmary. He felt a bandage around his head, and realized that it was the spot he could feel get struck first when Mason threw him against the concrete- Mason! John shot up from lying down, breath quickening, but as he glanced around the room, not seeing the larger man there didn’t settle him. He recognized what this was, this feeling, the constriction. While the correct term would be panic attack, John had always called it paranoia-noise, for what reason he had no clue. But seeing as how his paranoia shot up and white noise was all he could hear over everything else, it seemed fitting when he first started to get these kinds of attacks. His throat clamped and became dry, and swallowing felt like he was consuming ashes.

He could barely snap out of it until a gentle hand touched his shoulder. “John? It's alright, just me.” The white noise cleared some as he turned his head to the right, feeling a sense of calm once he saw Lucy’s soft smile and concerned stare. She softly grasped his hands in hers, gently squeezing them every time his breath became hasteful and his eyes dilated. It was certainly weird to see, but she understood. “You’re safe John, Mason won’t hurt you anymore.” He nodded slowly, hesitantly, but took her word no less.

What felt like hours passed, and after calming down, he drank the water that Lucy had thankfully gotten and set aside for when he was finally calm. It removed the sand texture from his mouth and throat, which made him sigh in pleasure. Lucy knew it had only been 30 minutes, but she couldn’t bear the let go of at least one of John’s hands. She had never held his hand before, and unlike any of her other patients she felt a tinge of joy when holding the man’s hand, it was truly bliss but she took note of how while she felt a spark, John looked as if he felt nothing. The blonde took pride in being able to calm him down, rather than also striking joy into him, and eventually let go as John had collapsed back onto the bed, already fast asleep.

Taking the now empty glass off the side table, she walked to another room where a little break room was for the nurses, and refilled the glass, taking out a sandwich slice she saved from the fridge. She could imagine that since John had been out for the entire day, he would be hungry. I mean he only ate some this morning and it was already past midnight, she didn’t mind staying up for him though. Walking back into the infirmary, she held a plate that now held the sandwich, and her other hand preoccupied with a now half full glass of water. Placing them onto the nightstand beside John, she straightened herself but before she could walk out she noticed something red out of the corner of her eye, painting the white sheets John laid under.

She cursed under her breath. “Oh no..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what Lucy saw- *insert thonk emote*. Don't forget to leave kudos and if you want let me know what you think! Danke meine Lieblinge~!

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder how John's upcoming week will go for him? Guess we'll have to find out next chapter!


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